


Moonfall

by Warrior_Nightheart



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25035205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warrior_Nightheart/pseuds/Warrior_Nightheart
Summary: Tensions rise among the four Clans in the aftermath of a devastating fire. As the threat of war looms like storm clouds on the horizon, a cryptic prophecy may be their only hope for restoring peace. In this time of uncertainty, some cats will rise as heroes, while others bend the chaos to their own dark purposes. But every cat in the forest can agree: for better or worse, the Clans will never be the same.
Kudos: 4





	Moonfall

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Moonfall, a fan series based on the works of Erin Hunter! This series is set in a slightly altered version of the old forest, with the four original Clans and a cast of all-original characters. Fans of Warriors should be aware that the relative position of the Clans has been changed from canon to support the story (I will post a map soon!), and some StarClan lore has been changed (which will be explained in the story as it comes up). Enjoy!

Lionclaw padded silently through pools of moonlight, ears pricked for the slightest sound as he patrolled the outskirts of ThunderClan camp. His apprentice Snowpaw followed him like a pale shadow, her blue eyes scanning the dark. A summer night's breeze ruffled their fur, carrying with it the scent of smoke. Lionclaw paused, nose raised to the wind. 

"Do you smell that?" he asked, flicking his tail anxiously. 

"Fire?" muttered Snowpaw, mimicking him. 

The tom nodded gravely. "It doesn't seem too close...but we should probably wake Skystar, just to be safe." 

Snowpaw nodded, and together they turned and raced through camp to the leader's den. 

"Skystar! Wake up!" Lionclaw shouted, crashing into the sheltered cave that formed the leader’s den. 

"Lionclaw? What is it?" Skystar muttered sleepily. The massive golden-and-white tom sat up, drawing a paw over his face. 

"Fire,” Lionclaw answered. “It seems to be coming from the north." 

"WindClan?"

"It's hard to say. It smells pretty far off, but..." 

"Take some warriors to the border, then. Find out exactly what we're dealing with."

Lionclaw nodded curtly and sprang back to his paws, sprinting to the warriors' den with Snowpaw on his tail. Their entrance woke the denful of sleeping warriors, who sensed their urgency and quickly shook the sleep from their pelts. 

"There's a fire,” Lionclaw explained quickly. “It seems to be near WindClan. I need volunteers for a patrol." 

"I'll go," offered a fiery ginger she-cat, springing to her feet. 

"Me too," a reddish-brown tabby tom volunteered. 

“Alright,” said Lionclaw. “Firewing, Russetear, you’re with me. If that’s okay with you, Swanfeather?" he added, with a deferential glance at the ThunderClan deputy. 

The gray-and-white she-cat dipped her head in agreement. 

“Snowpaw, you stay here and wake the other apprentices,” Swanfeather ordered. “Get them ready in case it spreads. Rainwhisker, Pineshadow--” 

“But I’m going with Lionclaw!” Snowpaw protested. 

“This patrol is far too dangerous for an apprentice,” Swanfeather said sternly. 

“But I’ll learn better if I--” 

“It’s fine,” Lionclaw interrupted. “I won’t let anything happen to her. We don’t have time to argue.” 

“Fine,” Swanfeather huffed. “Pineshadow, you wake the apprentices. Rainwhisker, Turtletuft…” 

Lionclaw didn’t wait to hear the rest of Swanfeather’s orders. He led his patrol through camp, leaving the other warriors to ready the Clan. The thorny barrier tugged at his pelt, and then they were past the boundaries of camp, crashing blindly through bracken and dodging around trees as they followed the ever-thickening scent of smoke. The smell grew stronger as the trees thinned, until finally an orange glow and a terrible, deafening roar rose up out of the darkness ahead, just past the border between ThunderClan and WindClan territory. The cats paused, afraid to venture too close to the flames. 

"WindClan…" Snowpaw whispered, as if to herself. "Should we do something…?"

“Why?” Russetear muttered with a flick of his scarred ear. “It’s not coming this way…” He raised his tail, feeling the direction of the wind. “It’ll move toward ShadowClan, if anything. ThunderClan is safe.” 

"But WindClan might need our help," said Lionclaw, conviction flooding through his veins like fire. "All of you go back to camp and report to Skystar. I'll see what I can do for WindClan.” 

"Not without me," said Firewing, tail lashing. "Snowpaw and Russetear can carry a message to Skystar on their own." 

"But--" 

"No buts!" Firewing snapped. "If you think I'm letting my only littermate run into a fire alone, you're even more mousebrained than I thought." 

"Fine," Lionclaw growled. 

"I'm coming, too!" said Snowpaw, stepping forward. 

"No, you're not!" Lionclaw responded. "Swanfeather was right, this is far too dangerous for an apprentice. Go back with Russetear and help however you can in camp." 

"But--"

"This is not a debate, Snowpaw! I'm your mentor, and I gave you an order!" 

Snowpaw huffed angrily, but made no further argument. 

"This is a waste of time, anyway," Russetear muttered to Snowpaw, just loud enough for all the cats to hear. "But if those two want to throw their lives away for another Clan, that’s their choice..." 

Lionclaw shot him a look before turning back to the flames. The sound of Russetear and Snowpaw vanishing into the undergrowth was quickly swallowed by the roar of the flames. 

"Ready to be warriors?" asks Firewing. 

"Ready as ever," Lionclaw replied, turning and leaping forward into the light of the flames. 

On the other side of the forest, a she-cat crept through reeds and brambles, skirting puddles at the edge of ShadowClan camp on silent paws. Her long, pale fur shone in the moonlight, making her look like a ghost of the marsh. She crouched behind a patch of scrub, patiently waiting for the night patrol to pass her by before quietly slipping past them and darting into the tangled wood. She slowed to a trot once she was sure she had left the watchful eyes of the patrol behind. 

"Daisypetal! You're late." 

The voice directly above her nearly startled her out of her pelt. 

"Agh!” she hissed. “Don't scare me like that, Cinderstep!" 

"Sorry," the dark brown tabby chuckled, dropping gracefully from his hiding spot on a low-hanging branch. "I didn't think I'd startle you so badly." 

"Just don't do it again," Daisypetal chided, brushing up against him. 

"Your wish is my command, Daisystar."

"Oh, stop that!" Daisypetal giggled, swatting him lightly with her tail. "You're going to get us both in trouble with talk like that."

"With whom? We have the forest all to ourselves," he purred, gesturing to the empty woods with a sweep of his tail. "I'll speak all the flattering insubordination I want." 

The two dissolved into giggles, their noses touching as they leaned in close. 

"You know, I thought about telling Darkpelt about us on patrol today," said Cinderstep. "But I doubt he'd believe such a lovely warrior would ever fall for...me…"

Cinderstep trailed off, turning and staring into the darkness. 

"What is it? Did you hear something?" Daisypetal whispered. 

"No...do you smell that? It smells like…"

"...fire," Daisypetal finished for him. "I can't believe I didn't notice before…"

"We'd better wake the Clan." 

As one, the young warriors tore off, kicking up moss and wet earth as they raced back toward ShadowClan camp. Their sudden appearance caught the patrol cats off guard. 

"Hey! Who goes the-- Wait, Cinderstep? Daisypetal?" 

"No time to explain!" shouted Cinderstep. "There's a fire out there, we need to wake everyone up!" 

As the patrol scattered to wake the rest of the Clan, Cinderstep and Daisypetal made for the leader's den in the roots of a gnarled old pine. 

"What? What is it?" growled Thornstar, blinking groggily and pawing at his yellow eyes. 

Cinderstep quickly explained. 

"Where was the smell coming from?” Thornstar asked. 

“East.” 

“Hmph. WindClan’s problem, then. The marsh should break the fire before it gets too close to us...but take a few warriors to the border to make sure. And to keep those WindClan cats on their own territory,” he added menacingly. 

Daisypetal gave Cinderstep a look of horror. What if the WindClan cats needed help? Their territory was on fire! 

“Yes, Thornstar,” said Cinderstep, ignoring Daisypetal as he inclined his head to their leader. He loped out of the leader’s den, gesturing for Daisypetal to follow with a flick of his ear. Outside, the camp already buzzed with news of the fire. 

“Darkpelt! Badgerstripe!" Cinderstep called. "We need warriors to check the border. Are you free?” 

“Sure,” said Darkpelt, trotting over. The black warrior was followed by a large dark grey tabby tom, who nodded affirmatively. 

“Cinderstep!" cried Daisypetal. "We’re not going to  _ fight  _ WindClan, are we...?” 

“If we have to,” said Cinderstep, avoiding her gaze. “They might use this as an excuse to raid our territory--” 

“Their territory is on FIRE!” Daisypetal yowled, drawing a few curious glances from nearby ShadowClan cats. She pointedly ignored them. 

“Our Clan must come first!” Cinderstep growled back. “We barely have enough prey to feed ourselves. You heard Thornstar...whatever happens to WindClan tonight is their problem, not ours.” 

“Do you have a problem with that, Daisypetal?” asked a voice behind her. Daisypetal jumped, her hair standing on end as she faced the ShadowClan deputy, Moonshadow. The fluffy black-and-white she-cat glared at her with cold amber eyes. 

"Yes!” Daisypetal snapped indignantly. "We should be helping WindClan, not driving them away!"

“Your first concern should be for your own Clan,” replied Moonshadow. “I'm aware that special allowances have been made for your past, but if you're still struggling to remember the warrior code, then perhaps you should stay and help with preparations here. I will go and defend the border in your place.” 

“But--” Daisypetal tried to argue, but Moonshadow was already trotting toward the edge of camp. Cinderstep threw Daisypetal an apologetic glance, but followed their deputy obediently alongside Darkpelt and Badgerstripe. 

"What's their problem?" asked a dark brown tom, sauntering up behind Daisypetal. He paused at the fresh-kill pile, appraising its contents with a critical eye before hooking a young squirrel with his claw. 

"Ebenezer! Thornstar said the rest of that was for the patrol!" Daisypetal hissed. "Do you want to get us both in trouble?" 

"They won't be able to eat all of this," said the tom dismissively. "And I'm still hungry from hunting all day." 

"Then eat your frog," Daisypetal grumbled. She flicked her tail at the small amphibian slumped pitifully at the bottom of the pile, Ebenezer's only contribution of the day. 

"These ShadowClan cats love frogs," he replied. "I wouldn't want to deprive them of a slimy treat." 

“ _ Ebenezer _ !” Daisypetal hissed, feeling her hackles rise. “You can’t talk like that! Don’t you realize the only reason you haven’t been kicked out of this Clan is because you’re my brother?” 

“Oh, really? Where did you hear that?” asked Ebenezer casually around a mouthful of squirrel. “Your new mate?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Daisypetal, averting her gaze. 

“Are you joking? You sneak out almost every night and come back smelling like that Cinderstep fellow. I’d be surprised if the whole Clan didn’t know by now.” 

Daisypetal’s pelt prickled with heat. 

“What are you so worried about? Afraid you’ll tarnish his reputation with our 'kittypet' past?” Ebenezer purred. 

“No!” said Daisypetal too quickly. “We just...aren’t ready for everyone to know.” 

“Sure,” Ebenezer purred. “Well...I won’t tell anyone about you and Cinderstep if you don’t tell anyone about the squirrel.” 

He punctuated the offer by swallowing the last bite. 

“Fine,” Daisypetal spat. She shoved past her brother and marched back to the warriors’ den, pausing on the way to groom herself and hopefully remove Cinderstep’s scent. 

The fire came so quickly, Sparrowpaw half-believed she was still dreaming. 

One moment she was asleep, stalking a mouse through the rustling grass that dominated WindClan’s territory. The next, she was opening her eyes to light and heat and yowls of panic. 

Once, as a kit, she had fallen in the creek that ran through WindClan’s camp. For a moment, as she struggled to regain her bearings, she was plunged back into the memory. The roar of the flames drowned out all other sounds just as the rushing water had filled her ears, and the same desperate need for breath gripped her as her lungs filled with smoke. But while the creek had been cold, this was unbearably hot, like a thousand greenleaf days pressed into one blazing moment. 

_ Sparrowpaw! Sparrowpaw, we have to run! _

The voice was muffled and distorted, but the teeth that sank into her neck were harder to ignore. Someone was trying to haul Sparrowpaw to her feet. At last, Sparrowpaw’s mind caught up with reality. She got to her paws and shook off her helper, who she recognized as her fellow apprentice, Frostpaw. Satisfied that she was awake, the white tom sprinted out of the apprentices’ den, and Sparrowpaw struggled to keep up with him. Each soot-laden breath seared her chest, and the heat threatened to overwhelm her. Around them, their Clanmates ran in every direction, ensuring that every cat was awake and scrambling to find the best retreat. 

“RUN! Get to safety!” yowled Tawnystar. “Rosethorn and I will take care of stragglers! Everyone else, go!” 

“What about the kits?” Sparrowpaw asked Frostpaw, also shouting to be heard over the flames. 

“They’ll be fine, Tawnystar and Rosethorn will take care of them!” replied Frostpaw. “Come on, our leader gave an order! Follow me, we should be safe on the cliff!” 

Sparrowpaw ran behind him, ardently thanking StarClan for her friend’s snow-white pelt as they crashed blindly through clouds of smoke. How he could see where they were going, Sparrowpaw could not guess; perhaps he was navigating on memory alone. 

“There!” Frostpaw cried. He began scrabbling up the narrow, winding path that led to the top of the cliff-face on one side of WindClan camp. Several other cats had the same idea, and were already scaling the steep path ahead of them. Sparrowpaw dug her claws into the rock, forcing herself not to look at the sea of flame below them. 

“How will they get the kits up here?!” she demanded of no cat in particular. 

“Maybe they’ll find a different way!” yelled Frostpaw. “Keep climbing! You can’t help the kits from StarClan!” 

Sparrowpaw gritted her teeth and threw all of her energy into climbing. Once, her paw slipped, and she only avoided falling by seizing Frostpaw’s tail in her teeth. Frostpaw yowled in pain, muscles straining as he pulled her back to stable footing. Sparrowpaw’s legs trembled with the effort, but just as she was about to give up hope, Frostpaw was helping her up the final steps. The apprentices collapsed, struggling to catch their breath as the smoke burned their throats and lungs, and looked around. 

Sparrowpaw’s heart sank as quickly as it had risen. The fire had already spread to the forested clifftop. It tore through the brush and clawed its way up trees, consuming everything in its path like a ravenous dog. The cats who had scaled the cliff ahead of them were in a panic, shouting for no one to follow them and searching desperately for an escape. 

“The creek!” some cat shouted. Silhouettes, distorted by the harsh flickering light, surged toward the rushing water. 

"Come on," coughed Frostpaw, getting shakily to his paws. Sparrowpaw followed reluctantly, stumbling as she struggled for breath. 

There was a blast like thunder, and one of the blazing trees fell toward them. 

“Look out!” Frostpaw shouted. He leapt forward, pushing Sparrowpaw away…

...and the tree crashed down where she had been standing a heartbeat before. Frostpaw vanished beneath the blazing trunk, and a wave of ash and heat threatened to sweep Sparrowpaw off her feet.

“FROSTPAW! NO!” Sparrowpaw cried. “Someone help!” 

But there was no cat around to hear her. The roar of the flames and crash of falling trees drowned her cries before they reached her own ears, much less those of her fleeing Clanmates. And even then, Sparrowpaw knew there was nothing to be done for Frostpaw. Summoning all of her remaining strength, she tore herself away and raced for the creek. The dark, swirling waters loomed before her, and then she leapt. 

In an instant, her world of fire became a world of water. It flooded her nose, her throat, and her ash-choked lungs. The terrible roar was silenced as water filled her ears, and the brightness that burned her eyes was softened. The world spun incomprehensibly as Sparrowpaw was swept downstream, and then she was falling, tumbling, until a moment later, SMACK - she hit the bottom of the waterfall. She had barely choked out her lungful of water before the creek invaded her mouth and nose again. Up was down, down was up, everything was swirls of silty water and the dull red angry glow of the fire. For a moment she was Sparrowkit again, who could not wait to see the world outside the den and paid the price for her impatience...

And then she was being dragged onto shore, coughing up water and filling her lungs with great gulps of air. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Y...yeah...I think so…” Sparrowpaw gasped. It took her a moment to realize she couldn’t place the voice. She looked up blearily. “Flowertail…?” 

“Afraid not,” the cat chuckled. It was hard to make out his features in the dark. “Will you be alright if I go see if anyone else needs help?” 

“Sure,” said Sparrowpaw, getting shakily to her feet. 

“Lionclaw! Kits!” someone cried. 

_ Lionclaw? Who is that? _

Had Sparrowpaw hit her head so hard that she forgot one of her Clanmates? No…his smell was familiar, but it was not a WindClan smell at all...

_ ThunderClan? _

But Lionclaw was already gone, sprinting up the creek. Sparrowpaw stumbled after him, and soon saw what the other cat was yowling about. 

Tawnystar, Rosethorn, and Blacktail, a new mother, were desperately trying to cross the creek, each burdened with a kit. Lionclaw and the fiery orange she-cat who called out to him leapt into the water. Lionclaw swam up to Rosethorn, offering his shoulder for support, and the other cat supported Blacktail. Tawnystar seemed to be managing on her own, with the older Lavenderkit clinging to her back. For a moment, Sparrowpaw thought they were all going to make it, and sighed with relief. Then a charred branch swept downstream and struck Tawnystar, knocking her and Lavenderkit underwater. 

As if something else had seized control of her limbs, Sparrowpaw felt herself leap after them. She reached Lavenderkit and seized her by the scruff, but quickly found herself in the same predicament as the others. Even her burst of heroic energy was not enough to fight the raging current. 

_ I’m not losing Lavenderkit, too. Not after… _

A fleeting image of Frostpaw flashed behind her eyelids. Sparrowpaw’s foot touched silt, and she kicked herself upward. For a moment, their heads broke the surface, and she saw a golden cat chasing them like a spirit of flame before the creek dragged her back down and the cold, crushing darkness swallowed her world. 

She awoke cold and wet, with water pouring from her nose and mouth. 

“She’s awake! I think she’s okay!” 

“Lionclaw…?” she rasped, coughing. 

“Yeah,” said the ThunderClan warrior, sounding impressed. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced…?” 

“Sparrowpaw,” she choked out. The reason she was coughing up water came back to her a heartbeat later. “Where’s Lavenderkit? Is she--” 

“Don’t worry, she's fine! Firewing has her.” Lionclaw nodded to the other ThunderClan warrior, who was carrying a bedraggled but living Lavenderkit away from the creek. “That was really brave of you, going in after her.” 

“I…” Sparrowpaw paused. How could she explain that it wasn’t really her at all? It was just...an impulse. Something inside her said ‘jump,’ and she jumped. She hadn’t meant to be brave. 

Lionclaw gave her a knowing look. 

“It’s hard to believe you’re not a warrior yet. You don’t look apprentice-age.” 

Sparrowpaw felt her pelt prickle with heat, despite the cold wind cutting through her soaked fur. 

“My assessment was going to be this moon.” She looked back at the burning wreckage of WindClan camp, where the fire continued to spread. “I suppose that might have to wait…” 

Lionclaw followed her gaze with growing concern. 

“Let’s continue this chat when we’re further away from that,” he remarked, eyes fixed on the violent glow. “The creek won’t hold it back for long…” 

Almost on cue, Firewing yowled for Lionclaw to get his tail moving before the fire killed them all. Sparrowpaw rose and took a few shaky steps, but after a second fight with the creek and a near-drowning, her legs had given her all they could. Lionclaw caught her as she stumbled, allowing her to lean against him for support as they followed the other cats. 

“Tawnystar…?” Sparrowpaw muttered, afraid to finish the question. Lionclaw flicked his ear nervously. 

“We didn’t have time to save you both,” he said, genuine regret in his voice. “You had the kit, so...I went for you.” 

_ What a strange cat _ , Sparrowpaw thought. It would only be natural for a rival Clan to celebrate the loss of WindClan's leader, no matter how nice this cat was. Why was this ThunderClan warrior here, helping them, when he could be safe with his own Clan? 

“Sparrowpaw! Thank StarClan you’re alright!” 

Broken from her reverie, Sparrowpaw looked up to see Rosethorn hurrying toward them. 

“Rosethorn!” Sparrowpaw cried in relief. At least WindClan still had their deputy. 

“Where is Frostpaw?” 

“Frostpaw is…” The words died before she could push them out of her throat, but Rosethorn understood. 

“I’m sorry, dear,” she muttered, brushing comfortingly against her. “You two were very close.” 

“Yeah…” Sparrowpaw sighed, unable to say anything else. Frostpaw was her best friend. They both thought they were going to have kits together someday. And now…

“StarClan will welcome him,” said Rosethorn. “He died as honorably as a warrior could ask for. We’ll have a ceremony for him when all is settled, to send him on with a warrior's name.” 

Sparrowpaw nodded absently. The last thing she cared about right now was warrior names. The emptiness she had set aside in the rush to save the kits was coming back, tearing at her heart like talons of ice. Frostpaw...Tawnystar...who else had they lost? 

Ahead, Blacktail's kits mewed pitifully as they struggled to keep up with the fleeing cats. Beekit and Mothkit were barely a moon old, and had never even set foot outside of the nursery den. Blacktail was struggling just as much as her kits. Huge patches of her fur had been burned away, one of her front legs dragged uselessly at her side, and her tail was blistered and bald as a rat's. She leaned heavily on her mate, Owlfeather, a dark tabby she-cat. Rosethorn caught Sparrowpaw staring and said solemnly, 

"She went back into the fire for Beekit. The kits will recover, but Blacktail...I'm worried." 

Lionclaw listened from Sparrowpaw's other side, ears pricked with concern. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "If there's anything we can do…"

"You and your sister have already done more than we could ask of you," Rosethorn replied. "We are in ThunderClan's debt." 

"Nonsense," answered Lionclaw. "I'm sure WindClan would have done the same for us." 

“Yes...of course,” the WindClan deputy muttered, her gaze wandering across the moor. 

"The fire's spreading!" some cat shouted. "Run!" 

Sparrowpaw looked back. The fire had crossed the creek and was now spreading rapidly toward them, leaping through the dry grass. 

"Help the kits!" Blacktail pleaded to Owlfeather. "They're more important!" 

"I can't leave you, either," said Owlfeather firmly, ushering Blacktail forward. "Come on, we need you!" 

"Go help them," said Sparrowpaw to Rosethorn and Lionclaw. "I can walk on my own!" 

Rosethorn needed no further encouragement. She sprinted ahead and scooped up Beekit. Lionclaw hesitated. 

"Go!" Sparrowpaw urged. "I'm fine!" 

Her legs were beginning to feel better, and she ran several strides to prove it. Convinced, Lionclaw bounded ahead and scooped up Mothkit by the scruff. Together, the fleeing cats raced the fire toward a line of trees. Sparrowpaw thought they might be nearing a Clan boundary, but no longer cared which one. All that mattered now was keeping ahead of the ravenous flames. The smoke caught up with them first, bringing with it the too-familiar smothering sensation. Sparrowpaw pressed on, her chest and legs burning. They charged into the treeline just ahead of the wall of fire, never pausing as the infernal waves crashed against the forest edge. The smoke thickened as green plants shriveled and young trees went up in flames. However, the dense greenery did break the fire's momentum. The cats slowed, panting. 

"I think we're safe," said Owlfeather, pressing her paw into the damp moss at their feet. "The fire won't get far on this." 

Sparrowpaw collapsed, doubly grateful for the soft, springy moss. Behind them the fire continued to rage, but it had stopped pursuing them. Rosethorn set Beekit beside his mothers and circled the cats, tallying up the surviving members of WindClan.  _ Her _ Clan, Sparrowpaw reflected. She would be Rosestar soon. The thought twisted like a claw in Sparrowpaw's gut, another reminder of all they had lost. The survivors, sprawled on the moss around them, were far fewer than she hoped. 

_ Perhaps we'll find others when the fire clears _ , she thought, but she knew it was a slim hope. 

"You okay?" asked Lionclaw, padding up to her and settling at her side. "You had a rough time back there."

"Not as bad as some of my Clanmates," Sparrowpaw replied, glancing at Blacktail. She was lying against Owlfeather, eyes closed and breathing heavily. 

"Where is Sedgefur?" asked Sparrowpaw as Rosethorn strolled by. "Shouldn't he be helping--" 

Rosethorn shook her head. 

"He isn't here."

Another pang of loss. 

_ What will WindClan do without a medicine cat? _

But the look on Rosethorn's face kept Sparrowpaw from voicing her concerns. Their new leader had enough to worry about. Instead she rested her head on her paws, permitting herself a moment to breathe. 

Cinderstep froze and dropped into a crouch at Moonshadow's signal. He smelled it, too, even over the scent of smoke that grew thicker with each step toward the WindClan border: they were not alone. And if they could smell the intruders from here despite the ash clogging the air, there must be a lot of them. Moonshadow ordered them to follow at a distance with a flick of her tail and crept forward, her dappled fur blending uncannily into pools of moonlight and shadow. 

Cinderstep followed a few tail-lengths behind. Despite what he had told Daisypetal, this mission needled at him like a bur caught in his pelt. Surely WindClan would not mount an invasion on ShadowClan while their own territory was on fire...

An explosion of noise and movement in the brush ahead signalled the beginning of a fight. Cinderstep cleared the obscuring vegetation in a smooth leap, followed closely by Darkpelt and Badgerstripe. Moonshadow was locked in combat with several other cats, who Cinderstep recognized from gatherings as WindClan. For a moment reason abandoned Cinderstep, replaced by battle-honed instinct. He pounced on the nearest enemy, a golden tom who rolled with the impact and buried his teeth in Cinderstep's shoulder. 

"Stop! We're not here to fight, mousebrains!" some cat cried. 

Cinderstep and the golden tom both paused, but the hissing and tumble of combat continued. Moonshadow and the WindClan deputy, Rosethorn, were a whirlwind of claws and teeth, tearing out tufts of each other's fur with vicious swipes. Blood sprayed across the moss as Moonshadow's claw hooked the WindClan cat's ear and ripped it in two. 

"Stop!" Cinderstep yowled. 

Moonshadow did not seem to hear. With no time to think, Cinderstep did the first thing that came into his head: he charged into his own deputy, knocking her flat on her side. This nearly earned him a swipe across the face before he could back away. 

"They're not here to fight! Look at them!" said Darkpelt, rushing to Cinderstep’s side. 

Rosethorn stood her ground, tail lashing, but she and her Clan were far from threatening. Most of the cats were soaked to the skin, badly burned, or both. Three kits were huddled up against a half-dead queen and her mate. 

"This is no raiding party," agreed Cinderstep. “They’re clearly just fleeing the fire.” 

"They're still trespassing," Moonshadow growled, rising. 

"That was not our intention," responded Rosethorn. There was a deep weariness in her voice, like the biting chill of leaf-bare carried on a leaf-fall breeze. "Our territory is burning. We had to leave." 

"Then you should have fled to a weaker Clan's territory," Moonshadow snarled. "You’ll find no welcome here." 

Her gaze lingered on a pair of warriors, the golden tom and a ginger she-cat. 

"It seems  _ ThunderClan _ cares about your plight. Go beg prey from them." 

The golden tom stepped forward. 

"It is the duty of all warriors to help others in need," he said, meeting Moonshadow's icy glare with amber fire. "I expect better even from you, ShadowClan." 

Moonshadow drew herself up to her full height. However, her composure had returned, and she merely cast a disparaging glance over the refugees. 

"Your help is wasted here. If these are the only cats who escaped the flames, WindClan will not survive this."

"You're wrong!" snarled Rosethorn. "WindClan has weathered worse storms than this. We will rise again stronger than ever!" 

"How inspiring. It would be more inspiring from your leader, though...where is Tawnystar?" asked Moonshadow silkily. 

The pain in Rosethorn's eyes was all the answer they needed. Moonshadow licked the blood from her paw. 

"How unfortunate," she purred. "What a terrible time to lose a leader, just when you need her most..." 

"WindClan has a leader," Rosethorn growled. "And I will not fail them." 

"Indeed," Moonshadow murmured, a faint chuckle in her voice. "In that case, you can start by getting your Clan out of our territory. Go back to your own borders immediately, or we will have no choice but to fight you." 

"We can't go back, the fire--" 

"We will escort you to ThunderClan," Cinderstep interrupted. He felt Moonshadow's eyes digging into him like claws, but he refused to look at her. “However, we will not be as lenient if we catch trespassers on our territory again.” 

“We have no intention of returning,” Rosethorn assured him, with a scathing glance at Moonshadow. 

Cinderstep nodded and turned toward ThunderClan territory. Moonshadow swept past him, tail raised haughtily. 

“Follow me, and try to keep up,” she said, as if leading the cats to ThunderClan had been her idea all along. 

The walk was slow and arduous. The WindClan cats were exhausted, injured, and had three kits to worry about. Darkpelt’s offer to carry one was coolly declined, so instead he fell into stride with Cinderstep. 

“Nice job back there,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Standing up to her, I mean. I’m sure she’s just thinking of ShadowClan, but...” 

“Thornstar wouldn’t have stood for it, either,” Cinderstep huffed. “No real warrior would fight a queen and her kits.” 

“Well, of course, but...well, you know Moonshadow. She can be a little...single-minded about things. You should be careful, Cinderstep.” 

“We live in ShadowClan, Darkpelt,” Cinderpelt replied, his whiskers twitching with amusement. ”I’m always careful.” 

The ThunderClan medicine cat’s den was a cacophony of scents. Many of the warriors found this overwhelming, but Silvermoon had grown accustomed to the strong smells of her herb stock. The fluffy silver she-cat moved around the den with purpose, pulling bundles of herbs from niches and piling them in a corner, ready for use. 

“Well, I have plenty of willow bark…” she muttered to herself, appraising what she had gathered. “And this should be enough plantain, although it would be better if it was fresh, but…” 

For the third time since Swanfeather’s patrol left, Snowpaw paced past the den entrance. She had protested loudly enough for Silvermoon to hear from the other side of camp when the warriors left without her. 

“Hey,” Silvermoon called. “Snowpaw!” 

“Yes?” she asked, pausing to face her. 

“Is something bothering you?” 

Snowpaw huffed, her tail lashing irritably. 

“I should have gone with them!” she mewed. “Lionclaw is my mentor, I should be with him! What if he needs help?” 

Silvermoon thought for a moment. 

“If he  _ has  _ run into trouble helping WindClan, he will likely need herbs when he returns. I’m nearly out of comfrey after Sootpaw’s scratch yesterday… If I show you the herb and tell you where it grows, do you think you could gather some for me?” 

Snowpaw’s ears perked. 

“Sure! What does it look like?” she asked, trotting into the medicine den.

Silvermoon showed her, then sent her on her way, telling her what parts of the territory the plant grew best in and ordering her to bring back as much as she could carry. Once the apprentice was gone, Silvermoon cast a final appraising glance over her herbs. 

_ That should be enough, with the comfrey. But… _

She left to find Skystar. The massive golden and white tom was near the entrance to camp, standing as still as if he had been carved from stone. 

"Skystar?" 

ThunderClan's leader blinked as he returned from wherever his mind had been. Silvermoon suspected it was the scorched fields of WindClan. 

"What is it, Silvermoon?" he asked. 

"I just went through my stores, in case…" she hesitated. "In case they're needed tonight. But, I was wondering, how much of my herbs do you think I should offer if any WindClan cats come seeking aid?" 

Skystar was quiet for a long moment, gazing up at the night sky now choked with rising smoke. 

"Do as much as you can for them, without jeopardizing ThunderClan," he said somberly. 

Silvermoon dipped her head in acknowledgement.

"It's only mid-greenleaf. There will be plenty of time to replenish whatever I use today," she said, trying to sound encouraging. "I already sent Snowpaw out for more comfrey." 

Skystar grunted in approval and returned his gaze to the half-hidden stars. Silvermoon sat beside him to wait. However, despite the silent prayers she sent starward, Swanfeather's patrol soon returned empty-pawed and with bleaker news. 

"The wind is blowing the fire away from ThunderClan," Swanfeather said. "But WindClan's camp has been completely destroyed, and there's no sign of Firewing or Lionclaw. Their scent goes toward the fire, but we can't get close enough to know where they went from there." 

Swanfeather's tone was blunt and detached, but Silvermoon had known her long enough to catch the wandering of her eyes, the anxious twitch of her tail, the slight catch in her voice. Firewing was Swanfeather's mate, and not knowing if she was alive or dead must have been more painful for her than a broken bone. 

"I'm sure they'll come back to us,” said Skystar gently. “They were probably cut off by the fire and had to take a different route." 

Swanfeather nodded, but her unspoken fears still weighed visibly on her shoulders. 

“They shouldn’t have gone in the first place,” growled Russetear, stepping forward from Swanfeather’s waiting patrol. “Why are we helping WindClan at all? Shouldn't we focus on taking care of our own Clan?" 

"This is a time of plenty," Skystar replied. His ears flattened, the only sign that he was annoyed with Russetear. "We have more than enough prey to share if WindClan needs help getting back on their paws. Did you find anything else?" he asked, turning back to Swanfeather. 

"We found a few bodies in the creek," she answered reluctantly, as if saying it out loud would make it true. "Tawnystar was among them. We tried to revive her, but she had already joined StarClan by the time we pulled her out of the water." 

"Who were the others?" asked Silvermoon. 

"We don't know. It looked like a couple warriors and an apprentice, but none of us knew their names. We left them on the bank...they should be out of harm's way until they can be properly attended to." 

"Good," said Skystar. "Take your patrol and keep looking for survivors. Check the creek - some cats may have jumped in and been swept into our territory." 

"Yes, Skystar," said Swanfeather. She turned around, beckoning the warriors who had accompanied her with a flick of her tail, and loped back toward the rising plume of smoke. Russetear cast one last disgruntled glare at Skystar, but followed obediently. Skystar watched them vanish into the undergrowth, his vacant stare once again fixed on something Silvermoon could not see. No longer able to bear the intensity of the silence, Silvermoon stood and ambled aimlessly around camp. Sootpaw, the wounded apprentice, was picking at a mouse near the fresh-kill pile, while his friend Goldenpaw paced restlessly back and forth. 

“Left behind as well?” Silvermoon asked. 

“Yeah,” Sootpaw sighed. “The warriors said a fire is too dangerous for apprentices. Where did Snowpaw go?” 

“I sent her out to gather herbs,” said Silvermoon. 

“Do you think you’ll need them…?” asked Goldenpaw hesitantly, afraid to voice the real question that hung in the air around them.  _ Do you think any cat will make it back at all? _

Silvermoon looked up. A gust of wind swept overhead, and for a moment the glittering stars of Silverpelt and the shining face of the nearly-full moon shone clearly through the smoke. 

“I do,” she said, her confidence rising. “Come with me...I have a feeling I may need some extra paws.” 

The apprentices followed her to the medicine den, looking somewhat heartened. 

_ I must get my own apprentice soon,  _ Silvermoon thought.  _ I should speak with Skystar about it when this is over... _

“This,” she said aloud, indicating a bundle with her paw, “is willow bark. Chewing on it helps with pain. Sootpaw, I’d like you to give a piece to any cat with injuries. And Goldenpaw, I may need you to chew herbs and hold them in place.” 

“Which ones?” Goldenpaw asked, sniffing the bundles with interest. 

Silvermoon spent some time showing the apprentices how they could help with burns, sprains, and broken bones, until a commotion outside commanded all of their attention. They sprinted to the camp entrance, and as it came into view Silvermoon’s heart soared. A group of cats emerged from the darkness, led by a familiar white she-cat. 

“They’re back! They’re back!” Snowpaw announced, racing into camp. She was followed by Lionclaw, Firewing, and about half a dozen WindClan cats. They were a sorry, bedraggled lot, three of them only kits and many injured. Tawnystar and Sedgefur were notably absent, and Silvermoon felt a pang of loss for her fellow medicine cat in particular. 

“Go find Swanfeather’s patrol and let them know they’re here,” Skystar ordered Snowpaw. 

“Wait!” cried Silvermoon. “Where’s my comfrey?” 

“Oh…” muttered Snowpaw, embarrassed. “I forgot about it when I found them…” 

Silvermoon’s gaze passed over the arrivals once more, assessing their injuries. 

“I’m going to need it. Go get the comfrey first, then you can look for Swanfeather. Bring as much as you can carry!” 

Snowpaw darted back into the woods as a pair of WindClan cats tottered toward Silvermoon. One was so badly burned that she could hardly walk, and only managed to stay on her paws because the other supported her. 

“You’re Silvermoon, right? The medicine cat?” asked the healthier warrior, a dark tabby she-cat. 

“I am,” Silvermoon replied. 

“Please, help my mate,” the warrior pleaded. 

“I don’t know how much I can do for--” 

“Do whatever you have to,” the burned cat growled. “Whatever it takes, my kits are growing up with both their mothers.” 

Silvermoon sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But the burns on your leg and tail are too severe. I’ll do what I can, but they will almost certainly get infected, even herbs--” 

“Cut them off, then.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Cut. Them. Off,” the burned cat growled. “I don’t need my leg or tail to survive. My kits and mate need me more. If these are going to kill me, then cut them off!” 

“I…” Silvermoon hesitated. “I suppose that could work…but no medicine cat has ever tried something like that before...” 

“I’ll bite them off myself if I have to. Just make sure I don’t bleed to death,” said the burned cat, as determined as ever. 

“Alright, then,” said Silvermoon hesitantly. “Any other cats with injuries, follow me to the medicine den. Our apprentices can begin treating you while I work on this one.” 

“You did well,” said Skystar as the injured WindClan cats filed after Silvermoon. Lionclaw's nearly-dry fur fluffed up with pride. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I only wish we had managed to save more cats.” 

“You did what you could,” Skystar replied. “And you both made it back in one piece. That is all I could have asked for.”

He turned to Rosethorn. 

“I was sorry to hear about Tawnystar.”

“How did you know?” asked Rosethorn, eyes wide. 

“One of our patrols found her body in the creek,” he answered. “Along with several others that we could not identify. We will show you to them when the living are cared for.” 

“Then once again, WindClan is in your debt,” said Rosethorn sadly. “Was Sedgefur there?” 

“Is your medicine cat missing as well?” 

“Yes...he was not with us when we escaped the flames. I hope he found another way out…” 

“He was not in the creek. Swanfeather would have recognized him.” 

Rosethorn gave a small sigh of relief. 

“Then there is still hope for him, at least,” she said. “How can we ever repay you for this? Your warriors came unasked for and saved several of our lives, even though we are not of your Clan…” 

“It is the responsibility of all warriors to stand together in times of hardship,” said Skystar. 

“Someone should tell that to ShadowClan,” said Rosethorn dryly. She told Skystar about the ambush, with interjections from Lionclaw and Firewing. Skystar’s expression grew more dour with each word. 

“I will have words with my brother at the Gathering,” he said. “That is unacceptable behavior, even from ShadowClan.” 

“Now they know WindClan has been weakened by the fire, and their deputy didn’t seem happy that ThunderClan was helping them...should we be worried that they’ll make a move against us?” asked Lionclaw. 

“They’re too underhanded to make a direct attack, but I’m sure they’ll try something,” said Skystar. 

“Then Rosethorn should go to the Moonstone to get her nine lives as soon as possible,” Firewing said. “WindClan can’t risk anything happening to her, too.” 

“I agree,” said Skystar. “Without a strong leader, there is little hope for WindClan. However, that is her decision to make. Rosethorn?” he asked, turning to her. 

“If ShadowClan is indeed planning to move against us, won’t they expect that I’ll journey to the Moonstone and attack me on the way?” 

“It’s a possibility,” said Skystar thoughtfully. “I recommend you take some warriors with you. It isn’t traditional, but I’m certain StarClan would understand the necessity.” 

Rosethorn looked over her remaining forces sadly: Flowertail, a willowy tom, and Sparrowpaw, still an apprentice, were the only cats who hadn’t gone with Silvermoon to the medicine den. They met her gaze with fear and determination in equal measure. 

“My warriors are exhausted,” she said. “And Sedgefur still hasn’t returned. We should at least wait for him.” 

“We don’t know if Sedgefur is coming back or not!” interrupted Flowertail. “We can’t afford to waste time waiting for him.” 

“I can still fight,” added Sparrowpaw. “I’m feeling much better now.” 

“And I would be happy to accompany you as well, with Skystar’s permission,” offered Lionclaw, glancing at Skystar. Skystar nodded in approval. 

“If you wait here until a patrol returns, I will send them also,” Skystar added. 

“That is more than generous,” said Rosethorn, “but we still don’t have a medicine cat, and yours is occupied treating my Clanmates' injuries. We cannot ask her to make the journey to the Moonstone tonight as well. We will wait here until tomorrow night, if that is acceptable to you." 

"That is acceptable," said Skystar. "Once ThunderClan's warriors return, I will set extra patrols for the night. You will be safe here." 

"Thank you," meowed Rosethorn. 

"Lionclaw, Firewing, will you show our guests to the dens? Then I suggest you get some rest as well." 

"Of course," said Lionclaw. He flicked his tail, inviting the WindClan cats to follow him. He noticed that Sparrowpaw in particular was dragging her paws, her head and tail hung low. On impulse, he added, "The warriors' den will be a bit full with all these new warriors around. I'll sleep in the apprentices' den tonight." 

"You sure?" asked Firewing. 

"Yeah," said Lionclaw. "Snowpaw will have a hundred more questions about the fire for me anyway." 

"That's why I figured you'd want to hide in the warriors' den," Firewing snickered. 

"I'll be fine," Lionclaw assured her. "Why don't you show Rosethorn and Flowertail to the warriors' den?" 

"If you insist," said Firewing. 

After the warriors split off, it was just Sparrowpaw and Lionclaw. The WindClan apprentice walked beside him in silence. 

"How are you feeling?" asked Lionclaw, moving just close enough that their pelts brushed. 

"Better," said Sparrowpaw, leaning into him gratefully. 

"You've been through a lot today," said Lionclaw, concerned. 

"I'll be okay," said Sparrowpaw, finally meeting his gaze with false cheer. 

"It's okay to not be okay," said Lionclaw gently. “Even the strongest warriors struggle with loss.” 

Sparrowpaw looked away, her eyes clouded with grief. 

"I lost someone very close to me in that fire…" she whispered. 

Lionclaw silently guided her into the empty apprentices' den. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, curling up in a pile of moss beside hers. 

"Not yet. It hurts too much…" 

"Then let's get some sleep,” he said. “You'll feel better when you're rested." 

"Thornstar!" Moonshadow yowled. "We need to talk!" 

"Yes?" Thornstar growled. 

"In private," Moonshadow added, with a haughty glance at Cinderstep, Darkpelt, and Badgerstripe. 

"Very well," said Thornstar. "Come with me. Warriors, you're dismissed. Go get something from the fresh-kill pile and rest." 

"Cinderstep, can we talk?" whispered Darkpelt as Thornstar and Moonshadow left for the leader's den. 

"Sure…" muttered Cinderstep, unable to take his eyes off of them. What were they talking about? Was it about WindClan? "Let me just...I just have to go make dirt really quick. Meet you outside the den?" 

"Sure," said Darkpelt. He trotted off, followed by Badgerstripe. Cinderstep walked slowly in the direction of the dirtplace until he was sure Darkpelt was out of sight, then turned toward the leader's den. By now Thornstar and Moonshadow were already inside. Cinderstep crept closer, ears perked. 

"...and Tawnystar is dead," said Moonshadow. "Now is the time to strike, before they can regain any of their strength. ThunderClan has already allied with them, it's only a matter of time before both Clans turn on us." 

"While half of WindClan is burnt to a crisp?" Thornstar scoffed. 

"Yes! Their weakness won't last forever," hissed Moonshadow. "I'm thinking of the future. OUR future. If we strike now, we can finish them before they have a chance to gather their strength. WindClan hasn’t forgotten the Battle of Leaf-Bare any more than we have - do you think they’ll let an opportunity to get back at us slip through their claws?" 

"And you want to prevent that by attacking ThunderClan head on? While they're expecting us? No. We'll wait until the fires die down, and then we'll help ourselves to all the WindClan territory we want. We’ll grow strong on their prey, and they’ll never regain enough strength to strike back."

For a moment, it looked like Moonshadow was going to argue. 

"Fine," she huffed. “But we’re wasting a perfect opportunity. Mark my words, Thornstar: this alliance between ThunderClan and WindClan won’t end with the fire. If we let them go on like this, they’ll be unstoppable, and they’ll come for our territory next. WindClan may be weak, but with ThunderClan on their side--” 

“You’re making a badger out of a mouse, Moonshadow,” said Thornstar wearily. “Clan alliances have come and gone, but the four Clans have remained. This will pass as well. Move the borders, but we’re not attacking anyone.” 

Cinderstep barely had time to dive behind a clump of sedge as Moonshadow emerged, but fortunately she was too preoccupied to notice him. She stalked through camp, and Cinderstep tailed her, feigning an innocent stroll back to the warriors' den. 

"Cinderstep! There you are! I was starting to worry," exclaimed Darkpelt, rushing to join him. 

"Sorry, ah...bad mouse," Cinderstep muttered. In the corner of his eye, he saw Moonshadow vanish through the entrance to camp. 

"You sure you didn't run into Daisypetal?" said Darkpelt, nudging him with his shoulder and giving him a knowing look. 

"You noticed that…?" Cinderstep mumbled, his pelt flushing with heat. 

"The whole night patrol saw you two come running out of the woods together, so...yeah, I noticed."

"Oh," said Cinderstep. 

"So...when were you planning on telling me?" Darkpelt pressed. "I'm only your best friend…"

"I was going to tell you, we just weren't ready for the Clan to know..."

"Why not? Because she used to be a kittypet?" 

"Well…"

"Oh, come on! Daisypetal's one of us now! It's not like she's her useless brother. I don't think anyone would have a problem with you two being together."

"Anyone?" said Cinderstep doubtfully, his mind wandering back to Moonshadow, remembering how hard she had fought against allowing the two kittypets to join their Clan. She hadn’t said another word about it after Thornstar made the order final, but every cat in ShadowClan knew she would never trust Daisypetal or Ebenezer. 

"Well...almost anyone,” said Darkpelt, following his line of thought. “But even Moonshadow can't actually object! We all know ShadowClan needs more kits." 

"I suppose…"

"That's actually what I wanted to talk about…" muttered Darkpelt, staring at his paws. 

"Oh, really?" Cinderstep jibed, forgetting his worries for a moment as he nudged Darkpelt playfully with his shoulder. 

"It's Dovesong," said Darkpelt in a rush. "She's so kind and beautiful and amazing and-- I was wondering, how did you and Daisypetal end up…?"

Cinderstep purred with amusement. He had suspected this for quite some time, but it was nice to hear Darkpelt admit it. 

"I wish I could help," Cinderstep told him, "but it just sort of...happened. We were on patrol together, and…well, she's the one who spoke up first…" 

"Oh...I see," muttered Darkpelt. 

"But I think if you just tell Dovesong what you told me, she'll appreciate the honesty," said Cinderstep quickly. 

"Really?" asked Darkpelt, perking up. 

"Really," said Cinderstep. "I know my sister. Dovesong isn’t the type for elaborate displays of affection. She'd want to know how you really feel." 

"I'll try that, then...thanks, Cinderstep." 

"Any time." 

Cinderstep glanced over his shoulder as he followed Darkpelt into the warriors' den, but Moonshadow was gone. He hoped she wasn't causing more trouble. As relieved as he was that Thornstar didn’t want to attack ThunderClan, he didn’t trust Moonshadow not to take matters into her own paws. 


End file.
